


Clouds

by ImagineMyWorld



Category: Original Work
Genre: Clouds, Interviews, Really strange, Reporters, SO, like an hour ago, sorry bout that, sorry honestly this just kind of wrote this cause i felt like it, strange, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 02:27:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16525553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineMyWorld/pseuds/ImagineMyWorld
Summary: A strange interview, an even stranger girl, and a very confused reporter.





	Clouds

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work, and yes, I know, this isn't from a specific fandom. In fact, there are only two characters, both female, with no known name. If you would like, you can imagine them as two specific characters, but for reference, this is just an original work. Sorry.
> 
> Also, this work was written on Google Docs, so I apologize in advance if there are any weird formatting issues. Enjoy!

“Tell me what you were thinking,” the reporter said. “Was there anything special about that day, right before the incident? What was going through your head, before everything else happened.”

The reporter leaned in close, with the young girl, age 17, across from her. The girl had an odd look in her eye, like she was amused by the choice of wording put before her. She took a moment before she began to speak.

“I was thinking about the clouds,” she said, smiling softly to herself. “How to paint them, the sky around them. I remember wondering if I could use a cotton ball, and if that would give the effect I wanted. She paused. "I kept looking at the sky.”

The reporter looked at her strangely, not for the first time in this interview. She was a strange girl, this one. Every question she had asked so far had been met with an airy response, tinged with amusement and a surrealness the reporter couldn’t quite place. She shook these thoughts out of her head, and continued to question the girl before her.

“And then after? What did you feel while the incident took place? What exactly do you remember? From what I understand, you weren’t conscious for most of the ordeal.”

The girl nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, you do understand correctly. I wasn’t awake while they took me to their hideout, and wouldn’t be for a long while, if I can recall. As I walked down the hill, still staring at the sky, and the clouds, I heard a shot. Moments later, I felt a pain near my shoulder. I looked down, and my shirt had been stained red." She shifted, crossing her legs once more. "I was numb for a second, not quite feeling. That is, until I lifted the shoulder of my blouse and saw the place where the bullet pierced my skin.” The girl laughed quietly. “It was quite horrific." She smiled, then sighed. "Then a crowding black overcame me, and then there was nothing”

The reporter nodded quietly, and placed a sympathetic hand on the girl's knee. She was confused, however. The girl talked of the experience as if it had been just another Saturday afternoon, and not the day she had been shot and kidnapped, placed in a secret hideaway for months on end. Her tone was soft, and her eyes were discerning, as if she were waiting for the reporter to call her out on her strange attitude. The reporter decided on a more indirect approach.

“I’m very sorry,” the reporter whispered, her eyes and mouth casting what she hoped was a comforting shadow across her face. “It must be very hard to talk about, and I can’t imagine all that you’ve been through.”

The reporter peered at the girl, waiting for the tell-tale response. The girl’s mouth lifted slightly, and her eyes gleamed, as if she had finally gotten a child to admit that yes, they had been the one to steal a cookie from the cookie jar, even though she had already known. It was then that the reporter realized that her seemingly cunning and artfully asked question to get the girl to explain her behavior had been painfully obvious to the girl from the start.

“You wonder of my demeanor,” the girl spoke, not a question, but a quiet observation. The reporter sighed, realizing that she would only get answers if she asked them outright.

“Yes.”

The girl smiled once more, pleased with her willingness to comply with her silent request to not tread lightly around her.

“Don’t worry, I know that my attitude towards my whole “ordeal” baffles many. I have just found peace with the situation. The men have been arrested, and therefore will bring no one harm anymore.”  
The reporter stared at her, bewildered at her seemingly easy forgiveness towards the ones that kidnapped her.

“How can you be so calm about this, about the way those men treated you? How can you forgive them so easily?” The reporter asked, looking at the young girl as if she had grown a third eye.

The young girl paused before she spoke, looking over the reporter once more before carefully choosing her answer.

“Oh, I didn’t forgive them quickly, nor easily. After all, you are not the first person to interview me, and I gave vastly different answers to them and had a vastly different attitude then. I’ve just had time. A lot of it. You see, after the fading blackness came back to a world of color and sound, I found myself in a small room, with a window. I heard arguing, in a faraway room, about what they would do with me. But after that, I was generally treated humanely. They bandaged my shoulder, gave me food and water daily. I got a bath once a week, soap to clean myself with, a change of clothes every once in a while. After a few months, they even gave me a small plastic hairbrush. I had a bed, a pillow, and a blanket, a clean toilet with toilet paper. It's funny how many things we take for granted until there’s a possibility that luxury might be taken away from us." She laughed, a tinkling little thing, and continued on. "I was confused, angry at first, but no one would come when I yelled, nor when I cried, so I just accepted it. I believe that they were planning on selling me, to a foreign bidder who offered the highest price. But processes like that take planning, and a lot of time. I was rescued before anything was finalized. After the police found me, I was let out, told that my captors were incarcerated and wouldn’t be able to harm anyone again.” She shrugged, “That was all that I needed.”

The reporter and the girl sat in silence. It was a comfortable silence for the girl, most silence was, but less so for the reporter. They sat there, for a while, until the reporter shook her head slowly as if coming out a trance. Her eyes gained focus, and came to rest on the flecks of green in the girl's brown eyes.  
“How did you stay sane?”

The reporter asked this question aloud, but by the tone of her voice, it sounded more like a thought, or a rhetorical question. The girl smiled serenely, and answered anyway. “I had a window,” she answered lightly, “where the clouds would greet me every day.”

**Author's Note:**

> I would love it if you all would tell me what you think, or even just leave a kudos, so I know if anyone enjoyed this or even read this honestly. Feel free to discuss any of it with me :)


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